Bus to Córdoba

It rained for the first time in two months the morning I left Salta and got on the bus for a 12 hour journey to Córdoba, Argentina's second-largest city. Thought it took me a couple of days to get into Salta's rhythm, I was sad to leave - I really like the vibe of the people and the city.

The bus ride was your usual, with movies blasting over the sound system, and bus attendant wisecracking into the PA system, and the driver pulling manouevres with a double-decker bus I wouldn't dare do with a Honda Civic. A highlight was when they put on a ( clearly pirated) DVD of the most low budget, cheeziest music videos by the worst reggaeton artists I've ever heard. The volume at ten, I think the pair of old ladies sitting across the aisle from me where scandalized by all the girls in bikinis in the videos.

I was on the top level of the double-decker, which gave me wonderful views of the mountains, and then the dusty plains we crossed as we made our way southeast. My seatmate was a guy who had just been visiting his mother and girlfriend in Tucumán, and was now making the 24 hour trek to the south of Argentina where he's stationed in the navy. Quite an interesting guy, with his 15 years in the navy, we talked about everything from the geography of Argentina and South America to world politics. From what I have observed, if there's one thing that seems to unite the Chileans and Argentinians I've chatted with, no matter what the age, sex or social class, it's an extreme distrust, sometimes brodering on rage, of American foreign policy.

I got into Cordóba at 11pm and have been spending the day wandering the streets and taking in the atmosphere in the city's central square.